


Bad Moon Rising

by thisgirlnani



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, F/M, Witch Sansa, expect supernatural hijinks with a badass prodigy witch and her protective werewolf pet, werewolf Jon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-05-03 08:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14564544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisgirlnani/pseuds/thisgirlnani
Summary: Sansa's the brightest witch of her age, all she needs now, is a familiar to take on the supernatural world.Easier said than done. She knows she's messed up once the smoke clears, however, and instead of summoning a wolf, there's only one (very naked) man standing in her bedroom.





	1. The Familiar

Sansa knew she’d royally screwed up from the moment the smoke cleared and instead of a wolf (as the spell had dictated would happen) there was only a very _naked_ man standing in her bedroom.

She barely gave herself a second to appreciate all the hard lines and planes of his body, before remembering herself. “Oh my god, oh my god!” She yelped, jumping back to grab her bedspread, and unceremoniously tossing it at Naked Man’s face. “Cover yourself!” She demanded, shielding her eyes.

 _Oh Merlin, that definitely wasn’t supposed to happen. Stupid, stupid spell!_ Sansa bit down on her lip, fighting a hot flush as she finally found the courage to look at Naked Man, who was now swathed tightly in her blush-pink bedsheets looking equal parts peeved and confused. It would have been a hilarious sight, had it not been so mortifying for Sansa.

“I-I’m so sorry,” Sansa started, hands outstretched in a placating manner. “I think I flubbed the spell. I didn’t mean for this to happen.” She anxiously tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear. “Are you-are you okay?” She studied him, nervously, now.

 Naked Man was ridiculously good-looking, with a toned body that put most her ex-boyfriends to shame. He had a tangle of dark curls and equally dark eyes that sent Sansa’s stomach into a series of traitorous flutters.

Her pink bedsheet (that still looked ridiculous on him) hadn’t managed to cover his entire chest, and she could make out faint scars, crisscrossing across his skin, adding to the wild look he had about him. _Okay, maybe she had messed up the spell, but damn if she wasn’t glad she had._

“I’m in one piece.” He reported, lips twisted into a grimace. _Merlin, even his voice was nice._ She was surprised at his accent. Northern and rough around the edges, which meant he wasn’t too far away from home. He turned his gaze towards her, and she shifted uncomfortably underneath his dark stare.

“I’m sorry,” Sansa blurted, “I don’t summon men to my bedroom often-“she cringed, “I mean, that came out wrong. I never do that. _Ever_.” Naked Man looked at her with one eyebrow lifted. He didn’t look like he believed her. “I meant to summon a wolf. I must have said the incantation wrong, or messed up an ingredient _somewhere._ ” Sansa wrung her hands together, groaning softly.

Naked Man shrugged, rolling his shoulders with an exhale. “No, you did the spell right.” He peered around her room, curiously, taking in the mess of spell-books and dried herbs. He stepped outside the circle of half-melted candles, surveying the room.

Sansa blinked at the unexpected validation. “Really? Well, you don’t look very wolf-like to me.”

He didn’t bother to look back at her. “Well, not right now, I don’t.”

She gaped, as the realization hit her.

_Werewolf._

 She’d never met one before, in person. Even at the Academy, they’d only studied the species off of textbooks. He looked every inch a human, as he stood before her, but if she remembered her studies correctly, adult werewolves could shyft at free-will, taking the form of wolves the size of horses. In their human form, the only symbol of their supernatural heritage, was a tattoo that designated their respective pack.

It made sense, now, that the spell had summoned another supernatural-being, she’d just been oblivious. Sansa worried her bottom lip. She’d have to send him back, no doubt, he already thought her crazy. She let out a small sigh of resignation.

“What was your name?”

 “Jon Snow.”

“Jon Snow.” She echoed, trying to remember if her father had ever mentioned a pack of wolves with the last name, Snow.

“That’s it.” He rubbed at his beard, and stared her down. “What’s yours, Red?”

“Sansa Stark.”

“No shit.” A gleam came into his eyes, as he recognized her surname. “What’s Eddard Stark’s daughter doing, summoning werewolves?”

“I was trying to summon a familiar.” Sansa crossed her arms, stubbornly. “I didn’t know the spell was for a werewolf, the spell just said ‘wolf’. I was picturing a cute pet, not a-“she waved a hand in his general direction, “-full grown man.”

Jon seemed to find her choice in words amusing. He grinned, “Well, that’s not fair, you haven’t seen my other form.”

“Well,” Sansa flushed, “I’ve seen _this_ form, and that was enough.” She’d seen _more_ than enough, actually. “Never mind, that, I’ll grab you some clothes from my brother’s room, and then, I’ll send you back.”

She turned towards the door, but before she could reach the doorknob, Jon blew past her, so that he blocked her path in the blink of an eye. She stopped short, before she collided into his chest.   _Damn supernatural speed_. “Yes?” She snapped.

“You needed a familiar. So, what’s the hurry, Red?” He was so close that she could see the curve of his dark lashes, and feel the warmth of his skin.

Jon was obviously humoring her, there was no way this complete stranger would agree to bind his life to hers. When she’d thought of getting a wolf familiar, she was delighted by the idea. Ever since, Lady, had passed away a few years ago, she missed the constant companionship. But, this was not what she envisioned. Jon was not some pet she could pat on the head and cuddle up on the sofa with. He was a _person._

“It’s _Sansa_.” She huffed, “And be serious, you wouldn’t actually want to be my familiar.”

“Why not?” He queried, looking genuinely curious. “Seems like the spell chose me, specifically.”

“Well, don’t get too smug about that.” Sansa retorted, plainly. “For all we know, I might have made a mistake with the incantation. You appeared naked, after all. I’m pretty sure that wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“I was hunting.” He gritted out, a slight pink coloring his cheeks. “Clothes don’t magically appear on my body when I shyft back to my human form. And anyways, if the rumors are true about Eddard Stark’s prodigious witch-daughter, I doubt you messed the spell up.”

“You seem to know a lot about me.” Sansa deflected. “Didn’t know wolves were the gossipy sort.”

“Well, your father owns half the Northern Territory. It’s not that difficult to hear a thing or two about the Starks.” He rubbed at his beard, absentmindedly. “So what’s it gonna be? We can go through with this, or you can send me back, so I can eat. You interrupted my meal.”

Sansa’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. “I just-I mean _that’s it_? You don’t have a pack to run with?”

He smiled slightly, like he’d just remembered a private joke. She tried not to focus too much on how nice and full his lips looked. “They’re a bunch of hot-headed assholes. I got tired of them.”

She frowned. “And will you get tired of me?” Merlin, she couldn’t believe they were about to do this. Sansa was supposed to be the cool-headed, rational Stark sibling and here she was, about to bind herself to some werewolf.

“I doubt it.” His lips widened into a wolfish grin, and she thought she saw his dark eyes flash a deep-purple color for a moment, but perhaps it was a trick of light.

“Let’s do this, Red.”


	2. The Run

“Jeyne told me you have a new pet.”

“Not, a pet,” Sansa corrected, “A familiar.”

Sansa sat across from her old friend, Margaery Tyrell, at one of their favorite diner haunts. She’d met Margaery during her years at the Academy, though the lithe brunette was not a witch. She was, in fact, a very clever succubus, who favored preying on the human species.

The last time they’d spoken in-person had been at graduation, but Sansa _had_ managed to spot Margaery on some tabloid, at the grocery store, hanging off the arm of some B-list actor. Safe to say, they’d both been busy. Now that Sansa was back South after visiting family, Margaery had been eager to catch up over lemonade margaritas and pasta, just like old times.

“ _Familiar_?” Margaery repeated, puzzled. “Darling, I don’t speak witch.”

“Familiars are like-.” Sansa struggled, trying think of anything _but_ a naked Jon. “Well, they’re like a supernatural guide. Forming a bond with one, can help to increase your powers.”

“Jeyne said you’d chosen a dog.” The brunette idly glanced out the window of their booth seating, as a passing car let out a noisy honk.

“He’s- _It’s_ a wolf.” Sansa sighed, correcting Margaery, once more. “Merlin, Jeyne really needs to work on her listening skills.”

“What’s the point of one, though?” Margaery prodded. “You were at the top of your class at the Academy.”

Sansa sipped at her lemonade. “Well, my job could use a familiar. You remember Alys Karstark? She got bitten by a rogue vamp last week and is still recovering in the Infirmary. Having a familiar would just be reassuring, knowing I have some form of back up. It’s becoming more common nowadays. People like having the companionship.”

“But what’s one animal going to do to help you?” Margaery rolled her eyes, looking unimpressed. “Why not partner up with one of the wizards or witches at the Ministry? You know, someone you don’t have to housetrain and teach how to ‘fetch’.” A dimple appeared on her right cheek, smug with her jest.

Lips pressed tight together, Sansa resisted the urge to divulge the full truth. If she told Margaery that her familiar was actually an unfairly good-looking werewolf, she’d be awfully nosy about the whole thing. As much as Sansa adored her, she knew very well, how loose her lips were. “Ha, ha.” Sansa, deadpanned. “Not of all us can make a living off of ensnaring human billionaires.”

Margaery shook her head, with a devilish grin, “Not all of us can be as noble as you, Sansa Stark.” She teased. “Brightest witch at the Academy and a job at the Defense Department handed to you, along with your diploma. If you weren’t my friend, I’d be positively jealous. But, I _am_ your friend, and quite honestly, I’m just worried about you. Stories like Alys Karstark are quite common, I’m sure, in your line of work.”

“Someone has to take care of the rogue supernaturals.” Sansa supplied, modestly. “I haven’t been hurt-“

“-yet.” Margaery, retorted, icily.

“You sound like my mother.” Sansa smiled, touched by her concern.

Margaery sniffed. “Someone’s got to take care of you in King’s Landing.”

The rest of the night flew by amidst easy chatter. She’d forgotten how nice it was to sit down and catch up with a friend. Sansa hadn’t been able do so ever since she started her position at the Ministry. There was always some rogue supernatural that needed immediate capture, or a human whose mind needed to be wiped down after bearing witness to some, unfortunate supernatural incident.

Before they parted, Margaery kissed both of Sansa’s cheeks, affectionately. “Darling, please let’s make this a thing. Every Wednesday, we can have drinks and bitch about the shitty men in our life.”

“Let’s do it.” She hugged the brunette tightly. “It was amazing, catching up with you, Marg.”

Sansa headed towards her car, zipping her purse open to dig for her keys. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the slightest movement, a flash of silver, in the bushes bordering the parking spaces. Normally, she wasn’t jumpy or paranoid, but this time felt _different_.

 _Maybe it was a_ _vamp or a daemon._ Work hardly ever found her, most of the times she was summoned by her superior, but maybe this was one of the rare instances. She shuffled closer to the bushes, trying to get a better look. “Hello?”

The bushes rustled again, and Sansa froze in her tracks. She readied her fists, feeling the buzz of magic start to surge through her fingertips.

A muzzle poked through the bushes, and she immediately sagged with relief. _Just a stray dog, Sansa._

The relief was only momentary, as the dog continued to emerge, and Sansa realized with rising alarm that it was not actually a dog, but a _wolf._ The wolf was a thing of beauty, with bright, silver fur and terrifying violet eyes. It didn’t approach any closer, after fully emerging from its hiding spot. Instead, he simply sat on his haunches, and then bared his fangs at her.

Sansa inhaled sharply, suddenly recognizing the curve of the wolf’s grin, “ _Jon_?”

He let out a high-pitched whine, while his tail swept into a wide, and powerful arc. _Of course it was him._ Her head whipped about, glancing around for any potential witnesses. Seeing none, she jammed her finger on the car key and yanked the passenger seat door, hissing at the giant wolf “Get in, Jon!” The wolf stalked towards her, clearly annoyed, but obliged and leapt into the car.

She closed the door after him, huffing angrily, as she made her way to the driver’s side. Sansa opened the door, ready to unleash her wrath on her familiar.

“You can’t just show up, outside of a _human_ esta— _God, why are you always naked?!”_ She shrieked, covering her eyes. Merlin, how was she supposed to know that he’d already shyfted back into his human form?

Jon’s voice came then. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen already, before.” She was still shielding her eyes, but no doubt there was a dark scowl on his stupid, stupid face.

“Doesn’t mean I need to see it again.” She gritted out. “There’s a picnic blanket tucked back there, somewhere. Use it to cover yourself.”

“Christ’s sake.” He muttered, crossly. There was some shuffling around, before he announced with a huff. “I’m covered, happy?”

“ _Ecstatic_.” Sansa finally got in the car, glaring at her half-naked passenger. “What are you doing here? Don’t you live up North?”

“I sensed your movement, last Saturday. So I followed.” He shrugged, nonchalantly, pushing back one of the dark curls that had fallen in his face.

 _Last Saturday?_ That was when she’d left Winterfell. Her mom had driven her to the airport late at night, sending her off with a warm hug and cookies she’d baked the morning before. “I live in King’s Landing.” She explained. “I was just visiting family over the week. The place I summoned you to, that was my family’s house up North.”

“You live in King’s Landing?”

Sansa nodded.

Jon shook his head. “Can’t understand that. The South’s stuffy, too many people and cars in one small area. North’s better.”

Irritation rose in Sansa. He still hadn’t explained what he was doing here. “I didn’t tell you to follow me. You’re my familiar, not my slave. If I needed you, I would have called. I explained how this worked, already.”

He frowned, “I thought you were in danger. You didn’t say you’d be leaving.”

 _Oh._ Sansa’s face fell, feeling immediately guilty. She hadn’t thought to inform him of her departure. She didn’t think it would be necessary. The spell had been cast. She would have been able to summon him for work with a simple thought, but she’d forgotten his end of the spell too, that he would feel her presence constantly. When she’d left, he’d probably jumped to conclusions, feeling her presence get fainter by the minute.

“I’m sorry-“Sansa started, pausing when she noticed heavy bags under his grey eyes. “Shit-did you _run_ here?” She gaped. Winterfell to King’s Landing was a short airplane ride, 5-6 hours, but running there, even in his wolf form must have taken _ages._

“Yes.” He snapped back, rubbing at his face, exasperated. “The stupid pink blanket. I was able to pick up your scent on it, and track you.”

Sansa smiled widely, genuinely touched by her familiar’s concern. All her doubts about him being odd and rough around the edges flew away. She reached out tentatively, to pat his bare shoulder, gratefully.

“Are you-- _petting_ me?” Jon grimaced, looking down at her hand in disbelief.

“Just accept it.” Sansa shrugged. “It’s my way of saying ‘thanks’. Now buckle up, I’m taking you home for a long nap and bath. You deserve it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gah, had internet problems, so this was supposed to be up yesterday, but it's ok, chapter's here now!!
> 
> anyways, thanks so so much for the love. reviews cheer me on so much, can't thank y'all enough. i hope you're having as much fun with this silly little story as i am. don't think too much about the supernatural semantics lol, this is a world where the supernatural live hidden among the humans, but they have their own governing body and schools that they attend and everything. if you're still confused about certain stuff here's a little cheatsheet to break down some info:
> 
> The Academy: A school for supernaturals to attend. Any supernatural species can attend (it's a world where they all coexist, some what peacefully). That's why Sansa, a witch, could meet Margaery, a succubus demon, at the same school. 
> 
> The Ministry: The governing body of the supernatural world. There's loads of departments, but Sansa happens to work in the Defense Department that protects the human world from rogue/criminal supernaturals.
> 
> I'm so glad to be writing fics again, I was super busy due to applying to med school, but I actually got in (!!!!) so now I have some time to relax hehe. That's all for now, again updates every Sunday (provided my internet doesn't crap out on me again, fingers crossed)


	3. The Apartment

The apartment Sansa rented out in King’s Landing was modest; she hadn’t needed a particularly big place. After all, it was only her, and she spent most of her time in the field, working late nights. But, it was home for Sansa, and she’d lovingly decorated the space in familiar colors that reminded her of Winterfell, rich navy blue and cool greys. All in all, it was a nice set-up. The rent was reasonable, there was decent food around the corner, and the residents were never too nosy.

The residents of the apartment complex were mostly human, save for the vampire on the first floor, and the kindly ghost that occupied the rooftop lounge. As it was late, none of the residents were out and about so it was fairly easy to sneak Jon up to her apartment (She could have cast an invisibility charm, but it was far more amusing to see a half-naked, blushing werewolf, trying to clamber up 3 flights of stairs in record time).

Once, they’d made it in her room, she let him shower, handing off to him, her bathrobe and a clean towel.  At his request, she managed to summon some of this belongings from the Wall, like his phone and wallet. Afterwards, she changed into a comfy sweater and sleeping shorts and washed up, using the kitchen sink.

There was then, the task of finding Jon some clothes to wear. He hadn’t brought anything with him, the fool had just shyfted and sprinted down South. The fact that he’d been so worried, made her blush fiercely, in the privacy of her bedroom. She tried not to think too much of it. He was her familiar, it was his duty to be protective, and hers to do the same for him.

_Get it together, Sansa, you’ve known him for literally a week. For all you know he could be an absolute shite like Harry._ The thought of her ex, brought a bad taste to her mouth, but it also gave her an idea. She opened her closet door, and retrieved what she was looking for. It was a plastic bag filled with all the sleeping t-shirts and shorts that Harry had left behind, every time he’d slept over. She’d meant to take it down to the Goodwill just a block over, but hadn’t found the time. _Well, I guess, sometimes, it pays to put things off._

The sound of the bathroom door closing, and some movement out in the hallway, signaled that Jon had finished his shower. She quickly grabbed one shirt and pair of shorts and muttered a quick incantation to clean and de-wrinkle the fabric.

Sansa shuffled back into the living room, where Jon was visibly fighting his sleepiness, eased back onto her couch and enveloped in her fuzzy, yellow bathrobe. He looked stupidly adorable. “Hey, sleepyhead.” She grinned, sitting down next to him on the couch. “Brought you some clothes.”

Jon straightened, eyeing the clothes wearily, before taking them from her and sniffing cautiously at the fabric.

“I washed them, don’t worry.”

“Thanks,” Jon huffed out a wry laugh, while unfolding the shirt. She recognized this specific shirt. It was one of Harry’s old soccer jerseys. It was the one he’d always worn to weekend practice, the navy blue one, with ‘HARDYNG’ emblazoned on the back _._ Jon eyed the jersey with an odd expression. “You didn’t mention a boyfriend.”

Sansa flushed, “I-He’s not my boyfriend, anymore. We broke up, weeks ago. I just haven’t gotten around to throwing out his stuff, yet. You’re about his size, so, it worked out fine. ”

Jon nodded. “It’ll do.” He got up, and faced away from her as he first pulled on the shorts underneath the robe, and then shed the robe off, lastly, pulling the shirt over his inky curls and broad shoulders. Sansa shamelessly watched the entire process.

_Fuck, he’s cute_. Sansa griped inwardly. _Stupid spell. Couldn’t have just given me a cute dog-one that didn’t turn into a cuter human._

“Red?” Jon interrupted her thoughts.

She hastily blinked up at him, hoping he hadn’t noticed her peeking elsewhere. It was odd seeing him in Harry’s clothing. “Hm?”

He hesitated, reaching back to scratch the back of his neck. “I’m sorry about earlier, ambushing you like that. I’ll be heading back in the morning and-”

“ _What?_ ” Sansa’s mouth dropped open. “You just got here! And you _ran_ here.”

Jon shrugged. “I only came to make sure you were safe. And aside, from the insane amounts of junk food in your pantry, I don’t think you’re in danger anytime soon.” 

Sansa snorted indelicately. “Oh come on, you can stay.” He looked surprised at her words. “I mean, only if you want to.” She declared, airily. “I’m not going to force you to do anything, but it seems like such a waste. Stay at least, for a couple days.” Suddenly, an idea came to mind. “You could come to work with me on Monday. I can show you around the Ministry.”

He didn’t look thrilled, but Jon, as she was already starting to learn, was not an expressive man by nature. “You’d be okay with me staying for a couple of days?”

_Let’s be honest, I’d be more than okay with that._ Outwardly, she only gave her wolf a bright smile, “You’re my familiar. Of course, it’s fine.” She waved her right hand, in the direction of her bedroom, and then flicked her wrist backwards, summoning the spare blanket and pillow from her closet. It landed neatly on the futon, and Jon, looked on, amused at her little display of magic.

“Got a spell for everything, huh?” His tone wasn’t mocking, if anything--he sounded genuinely in awe.

“Yup.” She looked him dead in the eyes. “Even ones to conceal half-naked werewolves, say, if they needed to sneak into an apartment building.”

She took pleasure in seeing understanding slowly dawn over him, and then seeing his ears turn a bright red. “You’re terrible.” He declared, flatly.

Sansa sauntered off to her bedroom, with a cheery, “Night, Jon!”

* * *

When Jon had felt himself being pulled away from the Northern hunting grounds, that fateful afternoon, he hadn’t known that life (or magic) would have brought him to one very, special witch.

Sansa Stark, was exactly what the rumors said of her, and somehow, the complete opposite as well. The Northern wolves that Jon ran with, spoke often of the esteemed Stark family. After all, when the wolves hunted, it was Eddard Stark’s laws that they abided by.

All of the Stark children were said to be prodigiously talented in their magic, taking after their parents. Pyp always had something new to say about the eldest son, Robb, who was poised to inherit his father’s title. _A lightning-fast dueler, well-liked among his peers, and cocky, pretty boy_ were just the few things that Pyp reported.

_Kissed by fire._ That was the first thing, he’d ever heard about Sansa. Eddard Stark’s eldest daughter, whose beauty was, allegedly, only matched by her aptitude for the magical arts. The male wolves would joke about stealing into one of the high-profile events held at the Stark estate, in hopes of catching her favor. Jon hadn’t paid much attention, at the time. With everything going on with his prick of a father, talk of some random witch, no matter how pretty, barely registered in his mind.

But, _fuck_ if his breath hadn’t caught in his throat, when he’d first laid eyes on her. She’d been adorably flustered and refused to let her eyes stray lower than his nose, during their first meeting. He expected nothing less from the prim and proper witch the rumors had spoken of. When she’d mentioned she needed a familiar, something, maybe sheer boredom, had possessed him to agree.

The spell had been simple enough. He hadn’t felt any difference _until_ he headed back to the Wall. It wasn’t an uncomfortable sensation, but the feeling _was_ persistent, like a warm thrumming at the back of his mind. After an hour of tossing in bed, trying to fall asleep, it had dawned upon him, that what he felt was _Sansa._ Her magic had bound them together, so _this_ was evidence of their connection. That revelation, settled him. Once he knew what it was, it didn’t bother him so much.

Then, a couple days later, he’d been out hunting with Grenn, and suddenly the thrumming was fainter than it usually, was. He had to strain his focus, to make sure it was still there, but surely, it was weaker than it’d been in the past days. Which, for fuck’s sake, Sansa hadn’t bothered to give him a manual on this whole familiar thing, so he’d jumped to the (reasonable) conclusion that she’d been in danger. He hadn’t even bothered to reply to Grenn’s yelps of confusion, when he veered back towards the Wall to grab the blanket that would have her scent on it. There was no hesitation, when he’d started in pursuit of her scent. He wondered, distantly, if that had been his own stupidity and recklessness driving him, or some side-effect of the magical bond.

Either way, he had ended up halfway across the country for some witch, he’d just met days earlier, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so relieved, as when he’d seen Sansa emerge from the café without one red hair out of place. He also didn’t remember the last time, he’d felt so foolish, jumping to conclusions, as he had.

Sansa had been angry, which was _ridiculous._ He only came to make sure she was safe. When he said as much, she softened, and even gave a tiny smile, that him feel a little less irritated. Then, she’d taken him home, and maybe he’d foolishly imagined it, but her face had fallen, when he spoke of leaving in the morning. So when she asked if he wanted to stay a bit longer, he selfishly agreed.

As Jon laid on Sansa’s futon, his feet barely over the edge, he relaxed, feeling the familiar thrumming, at the back of his mind resume. He could hear Sansa in the other room, faintly humming, while she moved around her bedroom.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his phone light up with a text notification. He heaved his body forward, in order to reach, where it was charging and nearly dropped the device, when he saw just who had texted him.

_Heard you’re down South. Stop by the estate._

Jon growled under his breath, turning off his phone and sliding it away. _Shit_ , just what he needed.

It wasn’t an invitation, it was a demand. He’d have to drop by when Sansa would be preoccupied. If she knew about this part of his life, she’d break their familiar bond, without hesitation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i should just ....... never give an estimate on when chapters are out, bc i am so bad at deadlines lol. but new chapter! hope you guys enjoyed this one and give it some kudos or a review if you liked it !!


	4. The Ministry

Jon awoke to the smell of coffee grinds, and slightly burnt bacon. There was a distant hum of melody, and it took him a while to realize that it was Sansa, singing quietly above the sizzle of the pan on the stove. She had a sweet voice, and had he not gotten a full night’s rest, it would have lulled him right back to sleep.

Instead, he sat up, slowly rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and rubbed a hand against his growing beard. He hadn’t shaved for a while, and he doubted Sansa had one laying around her bathroom.

“You’re up!” Sansa chirped, her head popping up behind the kitchen counter. “I made breakfast. You do eat human food, right?” She teased. “There is a park nearby, with some rabbits, but I’m not exactly an expert hunter.”

He decided to one-up her and feigned discomfort, approaching the kitchen area. “Actually, I’ll go out to hunt, if you don’t mind."

Sansa’s mouth formed an ‘o’ and a slight blush bloomed on her cheeks. “I-I’m sorry I-“

Jon smiled gently. “Kidding. Bacon smells great.”

She scowled, leaning over to swat him on the arm with a clean spatula. “You’re hilarious.” She slid over a plate and scooped out a neatly fried egg and a few pieces of bacon. “Eat up, Jacob Black.

“Twilight reference.” Jon frowned. “Hurtful.” He grabbed a fork and dug in, “What are you doing, today?” He quickly glanced over at his phone, still laying near the futon. He hadn’t responded to the text, yet, but it was pointless to do so. He’d have to stop by, regardless, it was just a matter of _when_.

“I thought we could get you some clothes. And then, we can stop by my workplace. Usually, I’m never there, but I’ve got to drop off some paperwork, anyways.” Sansa shrugged, easing off her apron. Jon noticed her attire, then, a sleek grey dress that highlighted her statuesque figure. The phrase _legs for miles_ came to mind, before he forced himself to focus.

“If you’re busy,” Jon hedged. “I can just stay around your place. I really don’t mind.”

Sansa waved away his concern. “We’re going together.”

Jon’s lip quirked, at her show of stubbornness. He’d find another time to slip away, then. “I can’t wear your ex’s clothes into work?”

“Nope.” She declared. “Old jersey and shorts isn’t exactly work appropriate. I definitely should have thrown those out weeks ago.” Sansa wrinkled her nose.

“I gather that it was a messy break-up.” Jon took a bite of egg. He was semi-surprised at his own interest in the subject. But, he barely knew anything about Sansa, minus vague rumors about her family and that her ex-boyfriend was athletic, courtesy of the jersey he slept in. 

Sansa bit down on her bottom lip. “You could say that. He was kind of an entitled asshole.” She shrugged. “But, guess that’s just my type so…” her expression soured.

An awkward silence ensued so Jon offered, cautiously. “I’ve had my share of bad break-ups too.” Most recently was Ygritte. She was wild and beautiful.  Being with her had been a breath of fresh air, from the stuffy, stuck-up company he’d endured down south. Their spell of happiness hadn’t lasted long, though. “Is he at the Ministry with you?” 

“Yeah, met him at work.” She sighed against her palm. “He’s like, some heir of this prestigious wizarding family up East. I’m such a cliché.” Sansa scoffed. “But, I’d just dumped this asshole, and so, when he showered me with compliments and gifts I thought I was _so_ special.” She rolled her eyes.

Sansa _was_ special. He’d only spent a couple days with her, but it was easy enough to see, that her talent for magic was unprecedented and she was undeniably pretty. Any guy would fall over themselves to date her. “But then?” Jon prompted, without a thought. Sansa hesitated, looking down. “Sorry, I’m being rude.” Jon amended, hastily.

“It’s fine.” She relented. “You’re not being rude, I just-I mean, basically, he couldn’t keep it in his pants.” Sansa shifted, uncomfortably. “Anyways, I’m sure my personal drama isn’t very interesting to you.” She cleared her throat. “I put an extra toothbrush in the bathroom for you, all my toiletries are in the cabinet. So feel free to use anything, you need. We can go when you’re done.” 

Jon hummed faintly, unsure of what to say next. He was shit at comforting people, but the crestfallen expression on Sansa’s face, bothered him. Perhaps it was their new bond, but he couldn’t help it as his protective instinct arose. “For what it’s worth Sansa,” He started, hesitantly. “You didn’t deserve that, no one does.”

“I know.” She smiled faintly, her blue eyes meeting his grey ones. “You’re sweet, Jon. Who would’ve guessed?” Her tone took a teasing turn, and Jon felt his own lips curve into a matching smile.

* * *

 

The façade of the Ministry, to humans, looked to be an innocuous, abandoned warehouse. In reality, once the illusory shield had been passed, it was a grand building with numerous levels, all complete with shining, marble floors and high ceilings. It was an ideal 10-minute drive away from Sansa’s apartment, although she only came very occasionally.

Sansa gazed over at Jon, who was staring up at the building with an inscrutable expression. “What do you think?” He was dressed now in a dark Henley and khaki-colored pants that he had selected from the thrift store across the street from her apartment. Earlier, he had stepped out of the dressing room, asking for her opinion. She’d answered honestly, stating it had suited him well, but Sansa, seriously doubted that with his looks anything would look terrible on him. She hadn’t said that part aloud, of course.

“It’s bigger than I remember.”

Sansa’s eyebrows flew up. “You’ve been here before?” It was rare, for other species to be allowed entrance into the ministry. The only non-witches and wizards that frequented the Ministry were high-level emissaries or, the opposite side of the spectrum, criminals.

Jon’s lips pursed tightly, looking slightly guilty. Of what though, Sansa couldn’t be sure. “Once or twice when I used to live down South. My dad’s side were all pure-bred wizards and witches.”

“Oh,” Sansa paused, confused. “But, you’re a werewolf.”

Jon looked increasingly uncomfortable. “I, uh, know. My dad was a tool who got my mom pregnant. He cheated on his wife.” Jon added for clarification. Though he hardly needed too. The realization had dawned on Sansa, just seconds before.

She flushed. “Sorry, of course. That makes sense. Sorry.” She prattled.

He nodded. “My mom took me up North, to meet the pack she ran with, before she passed away. She really loved it up North, got that from her.” His lips, lifted slightly.

Sansa’s heart tightened painfully. She couldn’t imagine, the pain of losing a parent. It was also clear that Jon thought very little of his father, so essentially, Jon must have been on his own for a while.

_Merlin, that sounded awfully, lonely._

Sansa wondered if that was the reason he had agreed to the binding spell so easily. Maybe, he was genuinely seeking her friendship.

 _Don’t get ahead of yourself, Sansa_ , she scolded herself. Even if that was true, she only had a few days with him, before he returned home. There was no way he’d stay down South with her. He had said it himself, that he preferred it up North.

“I’m sure she was a lovely woman.” Sansa offered, timidly.

“She was.” Jon affirmed. He cleared his throat, “Shall we go inside?”

Sansa nodded, leading the way. Inside, was (as it always was) a chaotic mess of dozens and dozens of wizards and witches trying to get to their respective departments. One always had to be careful, when traversing the lobby, so as not to accidentally bump into a grumpy witch and get hexed, as a result.

She steered Jon in the direction of the lift. It had just gone up with a group, and so they waited patiently for it to return to ground level. However, once the lift returned, the doors slid open, and Sansa saw just the person she’d been trying to avoid.

“ _Jeyne_!” Sansa cried out, stumbling backwards. Jon reached out to steady her, his warm hands grasping just above her hip, and then they were gone.

“Careful, Red.” He muttered close to her ear. Sansa fought the blush that threatened to creep up her neck. She was almost ashamed at how flustered a single action from Jon had gotten her. It wasn’t as though he was the first, handsome guy who paid her any attention! Sansa bit down on her lip, forcing herself to focus on the more serious issue at hand. 

“You surprised me, Jeyne.” Sansa recovered quickly, smiling brightly. Merlin, Jeyne was her close friend, but just like Margaery, she had a habit of blathering off questions, and Sansa wasn’t sure Jon would be too fond of the attention.

Her friend worked on the Infirmary level as a Healer. She always kept herself immaculately, and today was no exception with her pressed, starch-white uniform and tight bun.  “Sansa! I was running an errand. Fancy seeing you, here.”

She leaned in , pressing a quick kiss against Sansa’s cheek, but lingered to whisper, “Who is _he_?” Her gaze flickered over to Jon, with interest alight in her dark eyes. 

“Um, yes, this is Jon.” Sansa reached for Jon’s arm, to get his attention. He looked up at Jeyne smiling politely. “Jon, this is Jeyne. She’s one of my closest friends from the Academy.”

Jeyne beamed at him. “Pleased to meet you. Haven’t seen you around the Ministry, before. What floor are you?”

Jon shuffled a hand through his curls. “I don’t work here, actually. Just following Sansa around for the day.”

“Oh,” Jeyne glanced over at Sansa, a wicked glint in her eyes. “So, boyfriend, then?”

Sansa flushed bright red. “Oh Jeyne, _no_! Jon’s not my boyfriend. He’s-he’s my familiar.” Somewhere, behind her, she heard Jon cough uncomfortably. _Merlin, this is exactly what I was trying to avoid._

Jeyne blinked twice, her eyes narrowed now, studying him closely. “You said your familiar was a dog.”

Sansa resisted the urge to exhale loudly.  “Wolf, I said wolf.”

“Right,” Jeyne frowned, still visibly confused. “Jon is a-“

“-werewolf.” Jon cut in abruptly, sparing Sansa. “I’m a werewolf.”

 Jeyne’s brows rose further than Sansa thought possible. “Sansa didn’t mention _that.”_

Jon gave a wry smile, “Well, I’m not that interesting of a subject. She most likely didn’t want to bore you.”

“Oh trust me,” Jeyne knocked elbows with Sansa, sending a pointed look her way. She could hear Jeyne’s thoughts loud and clear: _We’re not done with this conversation._ “I’ll be interested to hear more later. For now, I have to drop something off for Missandei.” She held up a manila folder, and rolled her eyes, exasperated.

Sansa frowned. “Missandei?” That was an unfamiliar name. 

“Oh, that’s right, you probably haven’t met her yet.” Jeyne _tsked_. “She’s the assistant for the new Chancellor. The Chancellor was apparently _very_ serious when she promised reform in the departments, so they’re asking for reports from everybody. Honestly it slows us all down up in the Infirmary, but,” she shrugged, “Can’t say no to the Chancellor.” 

Merlin, she’d nearly forgotten about the recent change in leadership, since it’d been a while since she’d been at the offices. 

The former Chancellor had stepped down, citing a lack of capability, which no one sane, would argue with. He had nominated his sister as his successor and she was voted through by Parliament.

 Sansa had yet to meet the new Chancellor in person, but she had witnessed one of her speeches. The Chancellor was a beautiful young woman who spoke well, and was brimming with confidence and vivacity, but Sansa was still doubtful of the Chancellor.

She was still a Targaryen after all. And the Stark family knew, Targaryens were only trouble.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so!! it's revealed the Targaryen family is actually at the head of government for wizards and witches (where does Jon factor in hmm?) just FYI: Lyanna isn't related to the Starks, she is still a Northern girl. Jon took her surname 'Snow' for reasons.
> 
> I really hope you guys are continuing to like this story. God knows why I thought I could do a mini-supernatural story, lol i originally put 6 chapters as the total length, but that's not happening (who knows how long this might grow too). I love the jonsa fam so much, not only is there a crazy amount of talented writers in this fandom, but you guys are some of the most supportive readers a girl can ask for :) Thank you!!!


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